


Welcome Home

by duplicity



Series: Prompt Fills [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Height Differences, M/M, and they were ROOMMATES, harry is not happy about this, oh my god they were roommates, this is also:, voldemort sized all his furniture for himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duplicity/pseuds/duplicity
Summary: The worst part about temporarily living in someone else’s house was that it wassomeone else’shouse.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Prompt Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686931
Comments: 43
Kudos: 401





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Voleris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voleris/gifts).



> written for an ask meme on my tumblr! thank you to mare for sending this in; this one is for you 
> 
> **prompt:**
> 
> "I can't reach it" I'm already annoyed by Tom with his annoying height Like gimme a few inches sir why are you that tall

The worst part about temporarily living in someone else's house was that it was  _ someone else's _ house.

Harry could not justify having major changes made, no matter how otherwise inconvenient it was for him, because it went against every bone in his body to put forth a request and consequently make himself a burden.

Only, what had originally begun as a way to escape the doxy infestation in his flat had quickly turned into...  _ something else _ between him and Voldemort. Harry wasn't keen to put a label on it just yet; the boundaries were unclear and he was still living here rent-free. It felt weird to ask for anything other than to have the salt shaker passed over.

That said, Harry did take the opportunity to curse the absurd height difference—more specifically,  _ Voldemort's _ absurd height—whenever he had the opportunity to do so.

Blatantly unfair. No one had the  _ right _ to be that tall. Maybe it was useful for when Harry wanted to engage in climbing him like a tree, but otherwise it was a complete and total unfairness. Everything in this goddamned manor was too fucking tall for him.

The cabinets, the bookshelves, the vanities. Even the damn stairs were just a tiny bit higher than Harry was used to. Which, again, was  _ absurd, _ because weren't all stairs supposed to be built to some kind of standard? Only Voldemort and his stupid long limbs needed stairs this tall.

Harry wanted to ask what the hell was up with this place, only he knew that doing so would result in a snarky-ass response that he did not have the patience to receive.

So Harry sulked and swore colourfully every time he encountered a new piece of too-big, too-tall furniture, and debated the pros and cons of finding a magical way to just  _ steal _ a few inches of height from his sort-of not-yet boyfriend.

It all came to a head one day, after Harry had returned to their room only to find it had been cleaned. Attentive house-elves had a weekly schedule of tidying the private chamber up while both he and Voldemort were out. Harry was used to it, so he tossed his satchel bag onto the top of the dresser and strode over to where Voldemort was seated by the window and reading a book.

"Had a good day?" Harry asked curiously, laying a hand on the man's shoulder.

Voldemort canted his head back to regard Harry with a calm expression. "Nothing eventful occurred," he allowed, after a brief pause.

Harry curled his fingers a bit, tugging lightly at the fabric under his fingertips, and smiled. "I thought I would go flying. Did you want to come?" He felt the answer would likely be no, but it would be rude of him not to ask at all.

"You go on ahead."

Unsurprised, Harry made his way over to the (tall) wardrobe where he kept his broomstick. This wardrobe, like most other container-like items in the house, was magically-enlarged on the inside to store more things.

Harry opened it up to reveal the tidy assortment of belongings he and Voldemort shared. Tidier than usual because of the cleaning. Harry nudged a few cloaks and coats out of the way, searching for his broomstick. All of the heavy clothing slid easily along with their hangers, disturbing the even gaps the elves had left behind as Harry shoved everything to one side.

No broomstick.

"Where's my broomstick?" asked Harry, chancing a glance over his shoulder.

"Top shelf," Voldemort said, not looking up from his book.

Harry turned back to the wardrobe and tilted his head back. Yes,  _ tilted, _ because what the hell?! From experience, Harry knew that the top shelf was out of his reach.

Incensed, Harry swung around to look at the prat in the loveseat.

"I can't reach it," Harry said calmly.

Voldemort glanced up briefly. "Are you a wizard or not? Summon it."

That did it. The dismissal of the daily inconveniences Harry was suffering because he was not a freakishly tall abomination against nature was the last straw.

"I can't reach that," Harry repeated. "Just like I can't reach  _ anything _ in this bloody house! You have built an entire house—you  _ live _ in a house—that is  _ too tall for me." _

Voldemort shut his book with a quiet snap. He did not seem angry, but Harry had witnessed both the hot anger and the cold anger that were part of Voldemort's repertoire of less restrained emotions.

"You may leave if you wish," Voldemort said coldly.

Harry swallowed, oddly lightheaded now for some reason. He blinked a few times to try and clear the sensation. "I—"

"If the layout of the house is truly inconvenient to you, then far be it for me to insist upon your prolonged stay."

Harry paused. Was that... was that a hint of  _ hurt _ he was hearing? Was Voldemort upset that Harry didn't like the house?

"It's not—" Harry began, then cut himself off, frustrated at his inability to articulate what he wanted. "I don't want to leave. Yet, I mean. I don't want to overstay or anything because my flat is still a mess and—"

"You don't want to leave?"

Harry stared. "We've been. Um. We've been something, right? We're..." Harry trailed off, unsure.

They looked at each other. Voldemort pursed his lips and stood from his chair, stepping over to where Harry was standing, arms folded, in front of the wardrobe.

"You flat is atrocious," Voldemort said, like he was making a concession. "Your living space is a death trap waiting to spring upon you at any given moment.”

"My what? Is what?" Harry blurted, now offended. "There is nothing wrong with my flat!" Aside from the doxies, anyways. Harry liked to think he kept a tidy living space, and he was certainly capable of looking after himself without being coddled.

"If your stay is permanent," Voldemort continued smoothly, like Harry had not just interrupted, utterly outraged, at high volume, "then I may be convinced to... lower some of the furniture. Permanently."

“Oh.”

Harry thought that over, watching Voldemort’s face for any of the little tells he had picked up over the past week. Voldemort, however, gave nothing away; he looked as impassive as ever, brows raised in anticipation of Harry’s answer.

“I want the stairs lowered,” Harry said eventually. Petulantly.

Then Harry unfolded his arms, and he was gratified when Voldemort paced a few steps closer, not close enough that Harry had to crane his neck to look up at him, but close enough that Harry could see the glint of interest in those burning crimson eyes.

Voldemort placed a caressing finger to the line of Harry’s jaw, a pleased smirk tilting the right side of his mouth upwards. “Consider it  _ done, _ Harry. Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me & my writing updates on tumblr [here](https://duplicitywrites.tumblr.com)!
> 
> feel free to join my personal discord server for my writing [here](https://discord.gg/BJRP4A5)!


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